Santa In Montana

by Janet Dailey

  “The house looks so beautiful all decked out for Christmas,” she murmured, unconsciously giving voice to her thoughts.

  The sight of it triggered another thought in Trey’s mind. “In another couple weeks it’ll be time to decorate the barn for our annual Christmas party.”

  “It’s always the last Saturday before Christmas, isn’t it,” Sloan recalled. “That sounds far away, but it really isn’t, even though Thanksgiving was only a week ago. Which reminds me, I’ll be gone most of tomorrow.”

  “Where?” It was an idle question, born of casual curiosity.

  “A couple of us ranch wives are going to Miles City to buy toys for the Marines’ campaign. We have our list done, so hopefully it won’t take long once we hit the stores.”

  “I like the way you said that.” His mouth curved in a pleased smile.

  “Said what?” She slid him a puzzled glance.

  “Us ranch wives. It tells me you finally feel like one of them.”

  Sloan thought about it and nodded. “I guess I do.”

  “See the stars.” The gloved hand resting on her shoulder lifted, a finger pointing skyward. “On cold nights like this they always remind me of ice crystals scattered across a black sky.”

  Scanning nature’s stardusted canopy, Sloan nodded in agreement, murmuring, “They’re beautiful.”

  “Almost as beautiful as you are.”

  Surprised by the compliment that seemed to come out of nowhere, she turned her head to look at him. “I do believe you’re putting the make on me.”

  “And what’s wrong with an old married man putting the make on his wife?” Trey countered with a challenging lift of an eyebrow.

  “Nothing at all.” Her upturned face invited his kiss, and Trey was quick to oblige, his head dipping down, his mouth covering her night-cooled lips, heating them both.

  When they parted, their eyes locked for a long moment, but neither spoke. All that needed to be said was communicated with that look. An easy silence ran between them as they resumed their path to the Homestead.

  Sloan broke it when they reached the columned front porch. “Do you know what would be good now?”

  “Something tells me it’s not going to be what I’m thinking,” Trey guessed.

  “A hot cup of cocoa.”

  “Nope, that isn’t what I had in mind.”

  Well aware of that, Sloan laughed, and Trey responded with a wide smile of his own. “My turn will come later.”

  “You sound awfully confident of that,” Sloan teased as they entered the house.

  “Damn straight I am ’cause I know you love me.” He shrugged out of his sheepskin-lined parka and draped it on a wall hook.

  “And you love me,” Sloan countered, unbuttoning her own parka. “Which is why you’re going to help me fix that cocoa.”

  “I think that’s called wifely blackmail,” Trey chided with affection, then flicked a glance toward the living room where the sound of the television could be heard. “First we’d better see if anyone else would like some cocoa.”

  But when they crossed to the living room, Trey was surprised to find his mother was the room’s sole occupant. “Where is everybody?”

  Jessy pulled her attention away from the program she was watching. “I’m not sure but I think Cat’s in the kitchen, and Laredo left shortly after you went to the barn.”

  “So early?” Trey said with some surprise.

  “He claimed he wanted to figure out where to install the hot tub I’m getting him for Christmas,” she replied with a disbelieving smile.

  “You’re getting a hot tub to put at the Boar’s Nest?” Trey grinned at the thought.

  “According to Laredo, I am.”

  For the life of him, Trey couldn’t imagine his mother lounging in a hot tub, but if anyone could coax her into one, it was Laredo. “Gramps called it a night, did he?”

  “No, he’s in the den. Wade Rogers phoned and he took the call in there where the television wouldn’t bother him.”

  “That name sounds familiar.” Trey frowned, trying to recall where he’d heard it. “I can’t place it, though.”

  It was Sloan who answered. “He’s the son of someone Chase knows—the one who stopped by on Monday when you were at South Camp.”

  “You mean the one Jake decided was going to be Cat’s new husband.” His smile widened into a grin as he made the connection to Wade Rogers.

  “That’s the one.” Sloan nodded, then directed her attention to Jessy. “We’re going to make some cocoa. Would you like a cup?”

  “I’ll pass.”

  Sloan glanced at the closed doors to the den. “Should we check with Chase?”

  Jessy waved aside the question. “Just make him a cup. If it’s fixed, he’ll drink it.”

  “Will do.” He tucked a steering hand under Sloan’s arm and turned her toward the kitchen. “Come on, little miss cocoa maker, let’s get this show on the road.”

  Jessy had been right when she guessed that Cat was in the kitchen. She was standing at the counter, pouring a dark liquid into an over-sized plastic bag containing a large roast. She spared the pair a glance when they walked in.

  “How’s the filly?” she asked Trey.

  “She’ll be fine. What’s that you’re fixing?” He bobbed his head, indicating the plastic bag.

  “I ran across a new marinade recipe that I decided I wanted to try on tomorrow’s roast. It recommends letting it set overnight.” Cat zipped the bag shut. “So what are you two up to?”

  “Sloan decided she wanted some hot cocoa.” Trey removed the jug of milk from the refrigerator and held the door open for Cat while she placed the pan with the marinating roast in its bag on a cleared shelf. “So far we have orders for three cups. Care to make it four?”

  “Isn’t Dad having one?” She glanced at him in surprise.

  “That’s who the third one’s for, although he doesn’t know it yet.” He let the door swing closed and handed the milk jug to Sloan.

  “Didn’t you ask him?” Cat glanced his way with a questioning frown.

  “Couldn’t. He was on the phone.” Trey paused a beat, a teasing light suddenly dancing in his eyes. “Actually he was talking to your future husband—at least, according to Jake.”

  “My—” Cat broke off that phrase. “He was on the phone with Wade Rogers.”

  “That’s the man,” he confirmed.

  Was this a second chance? The question held Cat motionless for an instant. She honestly didn’t know whether it was or not. But she realized she would never find out if she didn’t take advantage of this opportunity. Ignoring the odd tingling sensation she felt, Cat moved toward the living room.

  “Hey, you never said whether you wanted some cocoa,” Trey called after her.

  “No, thanks.” The way her stomach was churning, she doubted she could keep it down.

  When she walked into the living room, two things registered at once—the sight of Jessy sitting alone on the couch and the closed doors to the den. Immediately Cat altered her course and crossed to the latter.

  She knocked once on the door and pushed it open. As she expected, Chase was seated behind the desk, the telephone to his ear. Irritation flickered in his expression as his gaze touched her.

  “Just a minute,” he said into the mouthpiece, then cupped a hand over it. “Did you need something, Cat?”

  Fighting back an almost paralyzing attack of nerves, Cat plunged ahead. “Trey said you were on the phone with Wade Rogers. I’d like to speak to him when you finish.”

  He showed his surprise at the request with the lift of an eyebrow and a long, considering look. Without responding directly to Cat, he removed his hand from the receiver’s mouthpiece and said into it, “Before I let you go, Wade, my daughter wants to speak to you. Hang on.” He held out the phone to her.

  For a moment her legs felt like jelly. Somehow Cat managed to cross to the desk and take the phone from him. “Mr. Rogers—”

  “Wade,” he corr
ected, the deep, rich timbre of his voice spilling over and through her.

  “Wade,” she said and started her speech again, aware that her voice sounded calm despite the chaos going on inside her. “I think I might have left you with the impression that I was only being polite when I said you would be welcome at the Triple C anytime. And that isn’t the case at all. If chance should bring you our way again, I do hope you’ll stop.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “I do. Really.”

  “As it happens, I’ll be in Montana the first of the week. I’d like to take you up on that invitation.”

  Cat gripped the phone a little tighter, conscious of the surge of gladness shooting through her. “I’ll look forward to seeing you then.” She flicked a glance at her father. “I’ll give you back to my…”

  “No need. Chase and I were finished. Tell him I’ll see him next week. Bye, Cat.”

  “Good-bye.” She handed the phone back to Chase. “He said he’d stop the first of the week.”

  Only a blind man would fail to notice the way Cat’s eyes were shining, and Chase was not blind. Wisely he chose not to comment on it.

  “I’m glad you told him we’d all welcome him,” he said instead.

  She gave him a narrowed look of sudden wariness. “Dad, when he comes, don’t you dare start in with that husband nonsense again.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. After all,” Chase added with a barely suppressed smile, “we wouldn’t want to scare him off, would we?”

  “Dad!” Cat protested, all indignant.

  “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” He pushed his chair back from the desk and collected his cane.

  Cat opened her mouth to deny that she had any secret, then released all that righteous anger in a sigh and shook her head in amusement. “Arguing with you is hopeless.”

  She spun away and crossed to the doorway, meeting Trey on his way in with Chase’s cup of cocoa. “I hope you’d like some hot cocoa, Gramps, because we fixed you a cup.”

  With the coming of the weekend, a warm front moved in, lifting the daytime temperatures into the forties and making conditions ideal for a trip into the foothills to find the perfect Christmas tree. Several candidates were located, but it was the one Jake picked out that they hauled back to the Homestead. Sunday afternoon was spent decorating it, with the whole family taking part, although Chase played more of a supervisory role.

  Monday morning Cat awoke with a heady sense of anticipation. “First of the week,” that’s when Wade had said he would be stopping by again.

  As she went about her daily routine, Cat kept one ear tuned to outside noises. The sound of a vehicle pulling up to the Homestead prompted a quick glance out a front window in hopes it might be Wade arriving. But Monday came and went without any sign of him.

  When Tuesday morning turned out to be a repeat of the previous day, Cat finally faced the possibility that something had come up and Wade wouldn’t be dropping by at all. Disappointment came, quick and strong.

  With the entire afternoon ahead of her, Cat refused to let it hold sway. Instead she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, silently chiding herself to stop acting like a schoolgirl. Behind her the dishwasher clicked into its next cycle. Absently she glanced around the kitchen.

  Now that the noon meal was over, she virtually had the house to herself. Chase was in his room taking a nap. Jessy had gone back to the ranch office. Laredo had volunteered to run a part to an outlying camp, and Trey had taken charge of Jake so Sloan could make another trip to Wolf Meadow to track down a couple items on the inventory list.

  Faced with all this free time, Cat decided to fill it by whipping up a batch of Christmas cookies. Twenty minutes later she placed the finished dough in the refrigerator to chill while she got out the rolling pin, cookie cutters, baking sheets, and parchment paper.

  After dusting the countertop with flour, Cat started to put the nearly empty canister away, then changed her mind and decided to refill it first. As she went to take a new sack from the pantry shelf, she happened to notice there weren’t any bags of powdered sugar on the shelf.

  “Like it or not, I guess I’m going to the commissary for some sugar,” Cat muttered to herself. “At least I discovered it before I started to make the icing.”

  She carried the sack of flour over to the canister. Just as she was about to pour it in, a voice came from the entryway, “Hello? Anybody home?”

  It was Wade Rogers. She nearly dropped the flour sack. As it was, she spilled some of it on the counter. “I’ll be right there!” she called back and hastily set the sack on the counter, then exited the kitchen at a running walk.

  Cat found him in the entryway, as expected. He was dressed much more casually than on his last visit, in a pair of blue jeans and an insulated vest over a blue chambray shirt. He smiled when he saw her, the action carving those sexy dimples in his cheeks and stirring up her pulse.

  “I had decided you weren’t going to be stopping by after all.” Cat heard the breathy note in her voice, an echo of the fluttering excitement she felt inside.

  “Sorry. I invited myself in.” The deep timbre of his voice vibrated through her like a caress. “The last time I was here, Chase told me that only strangers knock.”

  “That’s true. Welcome back.” As she extended a hand to greet him, Cat noticed the dusting of white flour on it and hastily pulled it back to brush it away. “Sorry. I was in the kitchen doing some baking.”

  “In that case, I won’t keep you. I don’t want to be the cause of you ruining something. Is Chase in the den?” He gestured toward the room.

  “Actually he’s taking a nap. I’ll wake him for you.” She took a step in the direction of her father’s first-floor bedroom.

  A staying hand checked her movement. “Don’t do that.” He added a quick shake of his head. “I’ll go outside and wander around a bit. Maybe check out that old barn, if that’s alright?”

  “Of course. Although—” Cat hesitated, then plunged on, hoping she didn’t sound too forward, “—as it happens, I need to go down to the commissary. I don’t have enough powdered sugar to frost the Christmas cookies. Just give me a minute to get my coat and boots on and we can walk together.”

  “I’d welcome the company.”

  Cat had the impression he meant it, and the feeling smoothed away much of her uncertainty. He stood by while she pulled on her snow boots, then stepped forward to help her on with her winter coat. She murmured a “thanks.” He acknowledged it with a nod, then opened the front door for her and followed her outside.

  As they started down the porch steps, he said, “I’m guessing this commissary you mentioned and the ranch store my father told me about are one and the same thing.”

  “I’m sure they are,” Cat confirmed. “We always keep it well stocked with basics as well as an assortment of other things.

  “The Triple C prides itself on being self-sufficient. In its early days—before the advent of the automobile—it had to be. Now the commissary is more of a convenience.”

  “Sounds interesting. I think I’ll come inside with you and check it out.”

  Cat tried not to let it show how pleased she was with his decision. As they angled across the ranch yard toward the store, she pointed out various buildings that comprised the Triple C headquarters, identifying everything from the structure housing the ranch offices, to the medical dispensary staffed by a registered nurse, and the fire station. Yet she never lost her awareness of him. If anything it was intensified by the occasional brush of his arm against hers. She tried to recall the last time she had walked side by side with a male who wasn’t either a relative or a ranch hand, but she couldn’t think of one. Not since Logan died.

  “When an average Joe like me thinks of a ranch, the word conjures up images of barns and sheds, a bunkhouse, maybe even a cookshack,” Wade remarked. “You have all those and more. You meant it when you talked about the ranch being self-sufficient.”

  “It
’s a necessity,” Cat reminded him. “Outside help can be hours away.”

  Together they paused while a pickup bearing the ranch insignia pulled away from the gas pumps located outside the commissary. When it cleared their path to the door, they started forward again.

  “I can see that now,” Wade agreed and reached ahead of her to open the door. “But it’s a hard concept to wrap your mind around until you are actually here.”

  “That’s what everybody says.” Smiling, Cat walked into the store and nearly ran straight into Laredo, who was on his way out. Cat stopped short, forcing Wade to do the same. “I thought you were running a part out to the West Camp.”

  “I am.” His glance flicked past her to touch on Wade. “I decided since I was headed that way, I’d take their mail with me. Save them a trip.” With the explanation made, he nodded a greeting to Wade. “See you made it back again, Rogers.”

  “That I did,” Wade replied with an easy smile and came forward to stand next to Cat, extending a hand.

  “Good to see you again, Laredo.”

  “Right.” Laredo shifted the bundle of mail to his other hand and briefly gripped Wade’s. “Come to do some shopping, did you?”

  “No, I did,” Cat inserted. “I need some powdered sugar. Since Dad was taking a nap, Wade came along with me.”

  “Cat’s being my unofficial tour guide,” Wade added.

  “You couldn’t be in better hands,” Laredo stated, then stirred. “I’d best be on my way. Take care.” He directed his parting words to Cat as Wade swung to one side, giving Laredo a clear path to the door.

  Wade briefly tracked Laredo’s departure with his gaze. then returned it to Cat. A crooked smile carved a groove into one cheek. “That’s a hard man to read. He didn’t seem surprised to see me—and he didn’t seem all that glad either.”

  “That’s just Laredo being Laredo.” Cat shrugged her lack of concern. “He tends to keep anyone he doesn’t know well at arm’s length. But he’s the best thing that’s happened to this family. Especially to Jessy.”

  “I know Chase definitely looks on him as family.”

  “We all do,” Cat said with a smile and turned toward the aisle where the powdered sugar was located.